


The Goat Incident

by Tethys_resort



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Administrative Disasters, Birds, Established Relationship, Goats, Horses, M/M, Paperwork, Taxes, Veterinary Medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tethys_resort/pseuds/Tethys_resort
Summary: The goat incident.  Otherwise known as, "Why Imladris now only takes taxes in currency."
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Erestor & Glorfindel, Elrond Peredhel & Maglor | Makalaurë, Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 142





	The Goat Incident

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I had a line at the end of "Tax Days in Minas Tirith" where Arwen comments that since the goat incident Imladris only does tax collection in currency. Then people started asking me what happened with the goats. Well.... This is what happened with the goats.
> 
> Trigger warnings: veterinary medicine (non-graphic), poor decision making, reputation damage, administrative disasters and taxes (which I always find frightening)

Erestor stared at the goats. 

They were tiny things, less than half the size of sheep and goats that Erestor had encountered in the past. They had fur, or hair, or wool (Erestor wasn’t sure what the technical term was and up until this point very little inclination to learn about goats) that fell in long downy ringlets that would have been the envy of many elf maidens, and little curled horns. Their colors varied. The one standing in front of him was a black and white piebald. The matched pair in front of his office hearth were white, splatter flecked with gray. The one standing like an ornament on the back of his couch and eating the map Glorfindel had left draped over the work table was black, with little white polka dots over its entire body. 

Adding in the one perched up at the top of the bookcase, staring down with a look of quizzical good nature. And the three lined up on his windowsill, one of which was eating a quill made a grand total of eight goats. 

Erestor stepped into his office wondering why he had an infestation of goats. The goats, for their part, clattered madly toward him bleating “MAAA!” at the top of their collective lungs. 

One scrambled out from under his desk, sliding a little in its rush. 

Nine goats. 

Goats in his office were bad, and the destruction impressive, but goats loose in the Administrative Wing of the Last Homely House would be worse. On instinct, Erestor darted inside with the goats and slammed the door behind him. Then, was shoved back against the door as the skidding goats collided with his knees. 

He went down with a crash and curled into a ball expecting to be mauled or trampled were he lay. After a moment he opened his eyes. The goats were huddled into a group, staring down at him. There were a couple of almost puzzled sounding “Aaaaa?” noises from the center. 

He sat up and scooted away from the door a little, the goats edged backwards. Apparently, he is not in danger of being mauled to death quite yet. 

Erestor sighed, it is tax season and someone has left goats in his office. 

He started to stand up and the door slammed open as Elrond said, “Erestor, I heard a crash, did something fall?”

Erestor tried to get out of the way of the door but was only partially successful. The edge of the door clipped him in the butt and sent him face first into the huddle of goats. Who reacted with bleats of terror and skittering as their feet failed to find purchase on the smooth stone floor. Despite the apparent lack of traction, only one goat failed to get out of the way and he landed squarely on the little thing. 

It made a “blat!” of distress and kicked him in the stomach thoroughly with its flailing feet before he managed to roll off it. He looked up to see that Elrond had slammed the door behind him and was now standing, back to the door, in the same position he had earlier occupied. 

“Erestor, there are goats in your office!” Elrond’s eyes were round as he surveyed the destruction and put out a hand to help him back to his feet. “Are you okay?”

At the same time, Glorfindel poked at him down their bond. _“Erestor? Are you okay?”_ Evidently it had been a startling enough moment to catch his mate’s attention. 

_“I’m fine. Some Morgoth blasted, tiny brained, misbegotten idiot left goats in my office.”_

_“Goats? Why- Just a moment.”_ Erestor got the impression that his mate was yelling. _“Maybe its taxes?”_

Erestor hoped that his usually responsible mate wasn’t in the middle of something important. Or sharp. He started picking up the scattered papers on the floor, trying to re-sort them into some semblance of order. Elrond, still wide eyed, managed to shoo the goats into a cluster in front of a cabinet and away from most of the scattered paperwork. Glorfindel continued, _“There were no goats when I dropped off the inventory sheet after breakfast. You were in- Just a moment.”_

As he got the impression of something hitting the ground and more yelling, Erestor said, _“Glorfindel, you aren’t doing something dangerous while you talk to me, are you?”_

Glorfindel’s amusement echoed down the bond and he sent a mental image from where he sat on top of Asfaloth. A group of the very newest Guard trainees were in one of the large practice fields on their horses. Each in turn was attempting to run an advanced course meant test their control over their horse. There were gates to open and close, fences to jump and loud pieces of fabric draped over a line to flap in the breeze. As Erestor watched, one trainee entered the run. He wove through the fence posts and managed to open and close one gate. He turned the horse into the chute that made up the next segment and came face to face with a scarecrow set up just inside the chute. The horse bucked and the elf on its back sailed into the air to hit the ground rolling. 

Erestor breathed a sigh of relief as the Guard trainee picked himself up and dusted himself off, looking more irritated than pained by his abrupt landing. 

Glorfindel yelled for the next green rider to go, and the elf and horse set off uncertainly toward the first obstacle: a narrow wicker gate. _“They insisted they were ready for something harder… So I agreed to indulge them.”_

As the first Guard walked off across the field after his horse and the second ignominiously slid face first toward the ground reaching for the gate latch, Glorfindel said, _“You’d think they’d do slightly better given we’ve been working on riding for two months now. Maglor was going to come out and join us in a bit when Celebrian returned to feed Arwen. So at least one elf will successfully make their way through the course today….”_

Erestor received the mental impression of a kiss and Glorfindel quietly dropped the contact as Elrond said, “I think I found the note that goes with these goats.”

Elrond read the pieces of paper, eyebrows climbing. Then read it again. Finally he handed it to Erestor.

_My Lord Erestor,_

_Please accept this herd of Iron Hills pygmy goats in lieu of cash for my taxes for this year. I find myself short on monetary funds but was given the herd in a Dwarven settlement, who apparently received them as payment for goods and services from a Mannish shepherd at the northern end of their territory. I am told they should be combed once a week all spring, rather than clipped. The wool makes extremely soft, fine fabric highly valued in the northern settlements._

_They have been combed for this week. I left the resulting wool in a bag in the Administrative Wing courtyard under the north awning._

_I am sorry I did not submit my taxes in person but I was in a hurry to depart along my trade route with Caradhras Pass finally open._

_Sincerely,_

_Celemen, textile merchant_

Erestor and Elrond stared at the goats clustered in front of the cabinets. Finally, Elrond said, “How do you value a herd of goats we have never heard of before?”

“There have to be specialists in Imladris. I’ll ask around. In the meantime, the goats cannot stay in my office. Where shall I put them? The administrative courtyard is closest.” Erestor made a mental note to fine Celemen for vandalism of property next time he saw him. He’s pretty sure the merchant had waited to move the goats until Erestor and Elrond were both in meetings under the thought that if he’s not there, they can’t reject the offering.

They both stared doubtfully at the goats. The goats stared back. One or two made inquisitive “Maaa?” noises.

Elrond said, “The sheep pastures are at the far southern end of Imladris this time of year.”

Erestor immediately responded, “That’s three days out. Too far if I need them for tax purposes. Maybe the back garden or the orchard?”

“Any of the House gardens after the incident with Thranduil’s moose last fall and the gardeners will have another rebellion.” They both shuddered. “The stables? Maybe there is a stall open. If you can keep them here I’ll go see if I can find rope for leashes. I’ll send someone from housekeeping too.” Elrond slipped out the door, leaving Erestor alone with the goats again.

Erestor sighed, stared at the goats and continued picking up chewed paperwork, hoof printed books and rescuing what floor rugs he thought could be dusted rather than washed. So far there were only a few piles of manure on his floor: proof the goats hadn’t been there long. The goats refused to stay in their corner and followed him about the room, inspecting every detail of his cleanup efforts. They kept trying to nibble whatever he picked up. He swatted at the goats halfheartedly, unwilling to risk injuring or terrifying the little creatures.

The door opened and one of the Housekeeping staff stepped in. “Lord Erestor? Lord Elrond said that you needed- AAHH!” The goats had charged over to see the newcomer. The startled elf reacted by running back out of Erestor’s office, slamming the door behind him. 

Erestor continued picking up paperwork, re-piecing an inventory book for the west wing attics, but the elf never reappeared. A few minutes later Elrond reappeared with Lindir.

Lindir tucked the basket in his arms higher and looked at the goats. “I thought Lord Elrond was joking. Those are really cute goats.”

Erestor stared at the minstrel. “Did you come to pay taxes? Or just to gape at goats?”

Lindir blushed. Elrond said, “Lindir’s parents raise goats, he volunteered to help us move them to the stables.”

Erestor sighed, and said, “In that case, thank you. How are we moving the goats?”

Lindir’s smile reappeared. “Goats will follow anyone with food.” He hefted the basket, now the source of deep scrutiny by the goats. “I got a whole basket of the horse bread from the stables. Hello, aren’t you sweet looking.”

The last was directed at the goats that were now clustered around Lindir’s feet looking up. Erestor said, “Lindir? Do you know anything about Iron Hills pygmy goats?”

“Nope. My parents are cheese makers, they keep milk goats. Same basic shape, four times as large, and not nearly as much hair.” He handed the basket to Erestor and pulled a slice of the coarse brown bread out of the basket and laughed as the goats skittered around his feet bleating madly. As he broke it into bits he started Singing quietly, pacifying the goats with Song and a tidbit of bread each. 

He opened the door and beckoned at Erestor and Elrond, “They aren’t used to me, and there are too many distractions, so it’ll take all of us and bits of bread all the way to the stables.”

As Erestor shut the door to Asfaloth’s loose box he breathed a sigh of relief. 

Even with Lindir’s help, it had taken what felt like half the morning moving the goats across the vast estate of the Last Homely House. The little things balked at the back stairs out of the administrative wing and as a group dove headlong into the ferns around the ponds by the visitor’s wing. The fern growth was lushly overgrown and retrieving them had ended with wet shoes and Lindir lying in the knee deep water of the closest pond. They had been almost to the next corridor when Erestor realized they had eight goats and went back for the lost one. 

The goats had decided to ignore all three of them (and the bread) in favor of the herb garden next. Erestor hoped the gardeners would somehow overlook the fact that the dill and chamomile were now much shorter. 

Asfaloth’s box was not ideal, but it was either that or the small paddock on the other side of the building. Lin, the junior stablehand on duty, agreed to tell Glorfindel to put Asfaloth in the paddock for now. 

The stallion would enjoy the fresh air and shade from the big oak trees, and the goats would be a little more securely contained in the loose box. 

It was only just short of lunch when Erestor and Elrond returned to Erestor’s office to continue clean up. In their absence more tax goods had been piled in on all the clean areas of floor. Erestor summoned an under scribe and told them to find a someone to clean the floor, preferably finishing with a mop. Then, he and Elrond started picking up the rest of the loose papers.

Erestor was on his hands and knees under his desk when Glorfindel yelled, _“ERESTOR SHE’S IN LABOR!”_ in his head loud enough that his vision went white. He jerked and crashed off the edge of the desk drawer above him. The impact bounced him into the stone floor unceremoniously and he flailed. 

Elrond ran around the edge of the desk and knelt down. “Erestor! What happened? Are you okay?”

At the same time, Glorfindel was continuing to yell in his head. _“Erestor? Erestor? Erestor! What happened, are you okay?”_

Trying to escape the double cacophony he tried to sit up and smacked his head again. That time he just stayed down with his arms wrapped around his head and snapped, “Will you BOTH shut up?”

Elrond and Glorfindel shut up. He opened his eyes and glowered at Elrond as the closest to him and the only one within eye range. In the acute silence he gingerly dabbed at the back of his head. Blood and a pair of tender spots rapidly becoming lumps. He could feel Glorfindel hovering anxiously, so said down their bond, _“Glorfindel?”_

Glorfindel sounded rather panicked. _“Erestor! I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is Elrond with you? One of the goats is in labor!”_

_“My head hurts. Goats go into labor all the time, why is this new? At least seven of those goats were pregnant. In fact, we’ve both sat through Hrovahin foaling twice so far, how is this different?”_ If Erestor had any choice in the matter he would have named his elven steed Madha again (all his regular horses had been named Madha) but Glorfindel had chosen something “prettier”. 

_“This one has two noses and three feet visible so far.”_

Oh. 

As he talked with Glorfindel, Elrond had taken the opportunity to carefully check his injuries in silence. As Elrond’s hands cupped his head, the pain died and Erestor sighed in relief. _“Did you get one of the stable hands to call the animal healers?”_

_“Lin is on stable duty today and I called him first.”_ Glorfindel paused and then sent a mental image of Lin carefully arranged to lie unconscious on his side next to the inside wall of Asfaloth’s box. A goat was perched on his hips surveying the area. _“You know how birthings are kind of well, slimy? Apparently Lin wasn’t okay with that…. And the animal healers are all down at the pastures right now.”_

Elrond snorted and Erestor glanced over at him. Healing like that, Elrond can hear Glorfindel just fine. “Tell Glorfindel I’ll help as soon as I stop by the Healing Hall for the right supplies. Breech births are serious.” 

At the information that help was coming, Glorfindel gave Erestor a gentle and apologetic mental caress before departing. For his part, Elrond put serious power into the healing, fixing headache, bumps and cut within minutes. He sighed, tired, and said, “If the pain comes back or you start seeing double, tell me.”

At the stables, Glorfindel was sitting in the straw with a still unconscious Lin and the tiny herd of goats. He had partitioned the one in labor off in a corner behind his outstretched legs. He smiled up at Erestor and Elrond; he was definitely much more cheerful at the news that he would not be left to deal with laboring goats on his own. “Oh good, there aren’t enough of me and I have no idea of what to do with a breech birth.”

Erestor glanced around before coming to an abrupt mental halt. “Glorfindel? Did you forget that Hrovahin was in season?”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened. “I forgot. I was focused on putting Asfaloth somewhere out of the way…” Down their bond came the image of Lin collapsed into the straw, stranding the box door open so that the goats had exited and were bouncing about the stable corridor exploring like demented fuzzy springs. 

Elrond was stripping off formal robes and tunic. “I suppose this means that you both get to sit and watch Hrovahin have a third foal next spring. Glorfindel? Can you put the goats somewhere else for this? Erestor? Can you strip down? I’m going to need help and you have smaller hands than Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel stood rapidly. “I’ll put Asfaloth and the other goats into the small paddock and introduce them to each other, the fence goes all the way to the ground in there.” Erestor thought that moving Asfaloth at this point was a little late, but the Hrovahin’s box is crowded with two elven steeds. Asfaloth, a steady and calm stallion, should be fine with the creatures. 

Erestor was certain his head hurt again by the time he and Elrond were done with the goat. Glorfindel cooed over the trio and helped clean and dry the two kids, safely delivered. Lin had revived in the middle of the proceedings and was sent out to find one of the animal healers and someone who knows goat breeds. 

Elrond, still bare chested, was swiping in a futile fashion at the stains on the lap of his leggings when one of the Guards came in. “Captain? Lord Glorfindel?”

The Guard looked at Elrond and gaped silently.

Erestor and Glorfindel stood up. Glorfindel pushed a lock of hair that had escaped its braids out of his eyes and said, “You were looking for me?

The Guard blushed crimson and said, “I’m so sorry to interrupt sir! Sir, you should come quickly. Its Asfaloth and the goats.” He turned and ran back out of the stables, Glorfindel running after. 

Elrond and Erestor groped for their tunics and over-robes before following. The Guard looked stressed and Erestor wondered in horror if Asfaloth had taken a dislike to the goats. The little creatures wouldn’t have stood a chance if the war trained stallion had decided to trample them. Elrond must have been thinking the same thing because as he reached the paddock he said, “Did Asfaloth react badly to the goats?”

“I noticed when I heard a noise through the paddock gates. Asfaloth was in there with the goats.” The Guard seemed highly out of sorts.

“Yes, I put them there…” Glorfindel was beginning to sound overly patient.

“Yes, well, I think Asfaloth decided to nap in the sun. And I guess that is how it happened. I’m really sorry. But I thought you should know right away.” 

Glorfindel sighed as they came up to the small paddock around the corner. “So Asfaloth took a nap. And then?”

“Sir, the goats ate his tail. All of it. And it looks like he just stood there and let them.” 

Looking through the gate, the goats were happily bouncing about the paddock around and under the stallion. It looked as though they had added him to their herd: he was wheeling and prancing around with them, head and tail high. 

At least what was left of his tail. The long silky white had been messily chewed off into a short brush of ragged strands. A few goats still had white hairs hanging from their mouths. Glorfindel stared at his horse and groaned. “Asfaloth… By the Valar, why did you let them eat your tail?” Asfaloth continued to bounce about with the goats. 

Elrond laughed. At the sad, punctured vanity look that Glorfindel wore Erestor managed to keep a straight expression. He went over and hugged his mate. Down their bond he said, _“Don’t worry love, it’ll grow out again.”_

Glorfindel heaved a deep sigh and returned, _“Yes, in a decade or so….”_

Elrond and Erestor left Glorfindel contemplating his elven steed and went to continue repairing Erestor’s office. It was with minor satisfaction that Erestor noted that his floor was clean again. At least clean of anything goat related: between the piles of goat-destroyed account books there were now bolts of fabric, a wooden crate of iron ingots, a box of blank parchment, several crates of liquor and what looked like fruit preserves lined up on his desk. There was an elf sitting on his couch too, waiting patiently with what looked like a large wicker cage of small yellow birds. 

He leapt up and bowed as they came in. “Ah, Lord Elrond, Lord Erestor. I am Limmeg the potter. I heard that you were accepting live animals for taxes?”

Erestor started with, “No-“

Limmeg ran him down conversationally as he continued, “I have these birds from the Golden Wood, I’ve been raising them as a hobby but these told me they would like to expand their range. So I thought maybe I could present them in lieu of-“

“No.” Erestor sounded very definite and the elf deflated slightly. “I am not taking songbirds. Sell them to someone they will like and bring me the taxes but I am not going to work out the value of a flock of singing birds.”

Limmeg, thoroughly cowed looking, bowed and retreated. Elrond made a choking noise. When Erestor turned to glare, Elrond said, “Where would you like me to start on re-organizing?” 

With the goats out of the way, Erestor was able to piece together more paperwork and discovered that they had apparently eaten half of the tax rolls. The totals due he could re-calculate with from records, he hoped he could remember which residents had paid so far. Calling everyone in Imladris back in to show receipts would be tiresome.

The office was almost organized again when Maglor came in with a small happy smile. “Erestor, I have come to pay you Limmeg the potter’s taxes.”

Erestor stared at him and Maglor’s smile widened. “They are cute and will love my window ledge and the tree outside in the courtyard.” Erestor supposed that of all people a minstrel would manage to convince songbirds not to simply fly away. Maglor continued, “And after this breeding season I can split the flock as a begetting day gift for Arwen, they can live in the nursery window and she can practice Singing to them.”

Elrond said, “Ada, NO.” 

Erestor visualized the toddler and had to agree: they weren’t sure quite yet what talents the elfling had inherited but the last thing Arwen needed was an entire flock of birds assisting in her adventures. Her brothers had been bad enough.

Maglor sighed and shrugged. “No? I’ll think of something else then. I was singing to the flock and I think they would be happy making the courtyards their permanent home. Think of how pretty they will sound.” Elrond looked a little mollified at that plan and Maglor paid. He tucked the receipt paper into his tunic and said, “By the way, when I came in the dinner crew was discussing your liaison with Glorfindel, Erestor and some goats in the stables. Whatever were you doing out there?”

Elrond groaned, “Ada…” He swallowed and tried again. “Ada, I was delivering baby goats.”

“Ah, thus the lack of clothing in the stable. Well, your reputation with the kitchen staff has either gone vastly up or down.” Maglor smiled widely at their expressions and sauntered away humming under his breath. Erestor sighed and put his head on his desk, the headache was definitely back. 

A few minutes after Maglor left, a scribe came in and said, “My Lord, one of the shepherds came down and took the goats up the High Pasture, apparently they need really cold temperatures.”

“So they recognized them?” Elrond sounded pleased.

“Yes. He said they are extremely valuable but give so little wool each year that they are usually kept in flocks of 100-200 goats. He says that we can probably trade for more if we want to start a proper herd.”

Elrond was obviously visualizing 200 tiny goats as he answered. “Ah. Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to think on this one…” 

It took a while longer but, desk cleared and paperwork accounted for, Erestor sat down again with a sigh, sprawling backward in exhausted silence. After a moment he turned and stared at Elrond, currently lying sprawled across the couch with his eyes shut. 

Erestor’s head hurt, his reputation had taken a weird turn, he had missed lunch and been forced to do stomach churning things with a goat. 

His office was still somewhat goat marked and the Valar only know what is totally destroyed and will have to be re-drawn or tallied from scratch. Hopefully his scribes will have some of the original documents.

Rather than fixing it this evening, maybe Glorfindel would like to go for a nice long ride to the lake and camp out for a few days? Or maybe go visit Gondor? Harad was supposed to be nice this time of year…

Erestor stopped and contemplated that thought. The desire to run from his job is never a good sign.

“Elrond, I think taxes should be collected in currency only. Many more days like this and I will be forced to Sail.”


End file.
